


Infiltrating the  Brotherhood

by davidandbillie



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davidandbillie/pseuds/davidandbillie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is a Freemason, and Phryne can't  resist a challenge. Previously posted on FF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infiltrating the  Brotherhood

Infiltrating the Brotherhood

A small thought that has been rattling around since discussion about the “Three pillars” plaque in Jack’s office. Also, I know nothing about the Freemasons, apart from what I see on TV.

It all started when Phryne received a visit from a worried woman, who was wringing her hands in despair.  
“It’s my husband John” she explained. “He disappears out every Tuesday night.”  
“Have you asked him where he goes?” asked Phryne, going for the obvious.  
“He says he goes to “The Lodge,” but I am sure he goes elsewhere,” said the woman, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.  
“Is there any sign of anything underhand going on?” asked Phryne. “Do you find women’s perfume on him? Is there any money missing from your accounts?”  
“He does smell of alcohol,” said the lady, “but no women’s scent. And I don’t have access to our bank accounts. John manages all the money.”  
Phryne sighed. “Well, most clubs and Lodges do serve drinks, so that would account for the alcohol.” She watched Dot bring in a tea tray. “Is your husband a Freemason?”  
“I’m not sure” said the lady, “he refuses to talk about it!”  
“Well, Lodge members are reluctant to reveal anything to their wives” said Phryne who had wormed some information about the Lodge activities out of a few men using feminine wiles.  
“Please help me Miss Fisher. I am at my wits end. I want to know if my husband is straying or spending the housekeeping on women or gambling.”  
Phryne sighed again. “I have a sizable fee, I need your husband’s photo and I will need to know both your names”  
The woman firstly produced a photo of her husband and then got out her purse. It had a sizeable number of banknotes in it, which Phryne thought odd. “So much for controlling the accounts” she thought.  
“My name is Mavis Smith” said the woman as she rose, “My husband is John Smith. And I don’t want you to visit me at my home. I will telephone you every Wednesday.”  
With that, she left.  
“She’s a curious one” said Dot, as she cleared away the tea tray.  
“It is a bit strange” said Phryne, “but she may have a legitimate concern. I’ll start by putting Cec and Bert on surveillance duty. That may reveal something.”  
Bert and Cec were only too happy to be paid to follow some one that may lead them into a drinking hole after hours. However, they reported back to Phryne two weeks later that “Mr Smith” did indeed attend the Malvern Lodge, on Tuesday nights. And not being members, they had to stay in the car and be content with watching the doorway.  
“But does he stay in the lodge?” asked Phryne, “Or does he do a runner out the back door?”  
Unable to answer that, it was decided that the three of them would stake out the back door the next Tuesday night.  
On the night in question, Phryne, Bert and Cec sat in the taxi cab, in the cobbled lane behind the Malvern Lodge in Dandenong Road.  
“Are we sure he’s attending tonight?” asked Phryne.  
“Sure as eggs” said Bert.  
“We know what he looks like” assured Cec “We’ll know if he comes out.”  
They sat and waited. It was cold. The only people who came out were the kitchen staff, who would light up a cigarette and retreat inside when finished. Phryne was beginning to remember why she sent Cec and Bert on reconnaissance outings without her!  
Phryne was thinking the case was one long wild goose chase.  
“Is there a flask of tea?” asked Cec.  
“Sorry Cec, but Dot forgot on her way out with Hugh, and Mr Butler has Tuesday evenings off.”  
“I’ll forgive Dottie this once” said Bert, “Only because young Collins is a good bloke.” He fished in his pocket, “Here’s a flask of a different variety!” They all took a swig of the liquid that burned on the way down.  
“I’ll go bot a smoke” said Bert, and he headed off to the man in chef’s whites, who was currently puffing away in the laneway.  
He returned a few minutes later. “There’s a smoking room inside,” he said “so none of the members will be out here. The chef says that there’s no reason why anyone would want to bunk out the back door. They can come and go out the front door.”  
Phryne sighed again. “Let’s go home boys, we’ll have to come up with another plan.”  
After sleeping on it, Phryne considered the problem at hand and had a conversation with Dot.  
“If only we knew someone who attended the Malvern Lodge” Dot said, “Then we could surely ask them.”  
“No, that would not work” said Phryne, “Freemasons are renowned for their secrecy. They won’t say a word to anyone. We have to find another way in.”  
She had asked Cec and Bert. “We’re not members” Cec had said, “At least I’m not. I’ve never been approached.”  
“And I wouldn’t want to join that mob of Capitalist oppressors of the working party” Bert had declared.  
“Couldn’t you even try to sneak in?” inquired Phryne.  
“Wouldn’t make it past the front door” said Cec, “We don’t know the handshake!”  
Phryne smiled, she knew the hand shake. It was amazing what she had managed to wring out of a man in a post-coital daze.  
“Not even if I showed you the correct way to shake hands?” she smiled.  
“Not a hope” said Bert, “My luck wouldn’t even get me past the doorstep.”  
Phryne considered the problem some more and ran an idea past Dot.  
“The Inspector is a Freemason” said Phryne.  
“But he attends the Richmond Lodge” said Dot. “Hugh was telling me so. He’s hoping that he’ll be approached one day. All the senior officers are lodge members. He says that would be the only place where he could call Inspector Robinson “Brother”. He would be very proud to be a Freemason.”  
“And probably very secretive about it, too” said Phryne, who had noticed that Jack had changed the subject when she had commented on the plaque in his office.  
She thought about the situation for a few more days. Cec and Bert reported back that Mr Smith, dutifully went to work, and then went home on other days of the week. They had apparently decided that surveillance work was preferable to cabbing.  
Mrs Smith started to call Phryne on a daily basis.  
“Really Mrs Smith” said Phryne, “It appears that your husband has nothing to hide. He attends Lodge meetings, which is very routine.”  
“He’s hiding something!” hissed Mrs Smith. (Phryne wondered why she was whispering down the phone line)”I just know it. He spends hours on the telephone talking to someone. He always hangs up when I come into the room.”  
“That may have nothing to do with the Lodge” said Phryne, closing her eyes in annoyance.  
“It’s always on Wednesdays” insisted Mrs Smith, “He always refers to ‘last night.’”  
Phryne sighed. “Alright Mrs Smith, I will solve this mystery this week, or I am not a detective.”  
In order to close the case, Phryne resorted to drastic measures. She needed Dot’s help, of course.  
“I’m not sure about this Miss” she said, as she pinned up the hem of the trousers Phryne was to wear “Isn’t this illegal?”  
“Not really!” said Phryne, “Unless it’s a simple matter of trespassing!”  
“But the lodge is sacrosanct. It’s like the priest hood, no women allowed!” said Dot.  
“Nonsense” said Phryne, “It’s just a matter of time before things change. They’ll wanting women in the Lodge in a few years’ time! I’m sure they’ll want some help re-decorating.”  
Dot continued altering her father’s old suit to fit Phryne. On the Tuesday evening of the infiltration, Dot wound padded bandages around Phyrne’s torso, flattening her breasts and filling out her shoulders.  
“I’m worried about this Miss” she said at last. “What if you get caught?”  
“Then they’ll push me out the door, and Cec and Bert will drive me home!” said Phryne brightly, “How bad can it be?”  
“Hugh says the Freemasons take the Lodge very seriously. They wouldn’t see a woman inside as a laughing matter. I imagine the Inspector would be very angry.”  
“The Inspector won’t be there” said Phryne firmly.

However, when Bert and Cec dropped Phryne off at the front door of the Lodge, she felt a twinge of fear.  
“Will you still be here if I need you?” she asked the cabbies.  
“We’ll be in the back lane” said Bert. “If you have to make a quick exit, head to the back door.”  
“Yeah” said Cec, “We’ll have the motor running.”  
Phryne took a deep breath, walked up the path to the door and knocked. She smoothed her hand over her slicked back hair, copying Jack. She stepped across the threshold as it opened before her.  
“Good evening” said a mildly surprised voice.  
Phryne felt her confidence sink a little, but she stood tall and answered the door man. “Good evening “she echoed.  
He clasped her hand in a handshake, slightly different from the usual. She hoped her response was adequate.  
“Please come in” said the door man, “Brother..?”  
“Archie” said Phryne, “Archie Jones from Sydney.” She used the deep voice she and Dot had practised. “I’m just in Melbourne for a few days.  
“Oh, I see” said the door man as he looked her up and down “From which lodge do you hail?”  
“Darlinghurst” she replied.  
“Oh, Of course” he responded, as if that explained everything.  
He indicated Phryne could sign in at the register, but stood at her shoulder, so she could not peruse through the names on the page before her.  
She nodded her thanks at the doorman and moved into one of the rooms where she could hear men talking in small groups. None of them looked up as she entered, which was a relief.  
She scanned the room. Men were standing around having comfortable discussions, in groups of two or three. Many held a drink in their hands. There was a rumble of voices, an occasional burst of laughter, a haze of cigar smoke. Nothing strange or bizarre as far as Phryne could see. Also, no sign of her intended quarry, the Mr Smith.  
Phryne moved from that room, not wanting to make conversation with any one. She just wanted to locate the man in question. She stepped into the doorway of another room, this one with arm chairs and older men sitting and chatting quietly. No Mr Smith there.  
As she wandered across the hallway again, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Brother Archie” said the doorman’s voice, “You’re looking lost, Let me get you a drink.”  
“Yes, thank you” said Phryne as she allowed herself to be steered down the hall again. It would not do to refuse and call attention to herself.  
Two steps into the room that was obviously the bar, she heard a laugh that made her heart stop. She froze. How Jack could be here? She had idly inquired and he had said he attended the Richmond Lodge. She panicked, and twisted in the doorman’s grip. “I think I’ll find the gents room before that drink” she said and walked out again, with as much dignity as she could muster.  
Could she feel Jack’s gaze rest on her as she left, or was that her imagination playing tricks on her?  
She did not look back, but followed the signs to the bathroom. Keeping her face down, she passed a tall man in the side hallway as she approached the bathroom door. When inside, she locked herself in a stall.  
“Damm, Damm, Damm” she muttered into the wall, her resolve having deserted her. She decided that getting out of the club was her best plan, as Jack would surely see through her disguise and she would be of no help to Mrs Smith and the information that lady wanted. She took a deep breath and resolved to find the back door as quickly as possible.  
Phryne peeked out of the stall and found the bathroom empty. It took only two steps to reach the main door, then she was back in the side hall way. Two steps down the small hall, she heard a voice say “How the hell did you get in here Miss Fisher?” immediately followed by a rough shove into the wall beside her.  
“Evening Jack!” was all she could manage, before he had her pinned against the wall, his full weight on her shoulder.  
“I don’t know what you’re playing at Miss Fisher, but you will surely pay for this escapade!” he said angrily, his eyes glinting dangerously.  
“Can’t blame a girl for trying” said Phryne airily, but Jack did not see the funny side of her presence. He spun her around and pushed her up against the wall, her face against the cool wood.  
“I don’t care what you explanation is, but you are in a lot of trouble” he hissed into her ear.  
“How did you recognise me?” she asked as she could feel him patting down her back.  
“You still walk like a woman” he said “and I’d recognise your arse anywhere.”  
“You noticed?” tried Phryne, but Jack kicked her feet apart, causing her to grasp at the wall to maintain her balance.  
“Hands on the wall” he demanded. He frisked her roughly, his hands defiantly, deliberately groping her buttocks, feeling her trouser pockets, feeling his way across the buttons of her trouser fly.  
“Rough police handling, Inspector!” she said faintly.  
“Quiet!” he demanded.  
He was feeling his way up her leg, and he was not delicate as he reached her crotch. Phryne gasped.  
He started on her other leg and grunted in satisfaction as he pulled her knife from her calf garter.  
“Carrying weapons is an offence, and demonstrates the premeditation of the crime” he said grimly. He was searching her jacket pockets, his hands moving over her chest, blatantly touching her breasts which were hidden under the binding and padding. Phryne let out a moan and tried to move, but he jammed her to the wall with a knee to the back of her thigh. It hurt, and Phryne was sure she’d have a bruise there tomorrow.  
Feeling in her inner jacket pocket, he pulled out her revolver. “I’ll confiscate that” he said with a note of triumph!  
He spun her around again, and thrust her back roughly against the wall.  
“You really try my patience Miss Fisher, but this time you take the cake. You do realise that this building is crawling with senior level policeman, lawyers and several judges.”  
“All honourable men I am sure!” she tried.  
Jack snorted. “In the lodge, there would be no witnesses to a world war. If another man found you, you could have ended up on your back on the pool table, with your trousers around your ankles and blokes lining up to take turns!”  
“Surely Lodge members would be more respectful than that!” she said indignantly.  
“They’re Freemasons Miss Fisher, not eunuchs!”  
He glared at her. “Now I have to get you out of here without anyone seeing you! If I’m caught smuggling you out, I won’t be invited back!”  
“Why are you here Jack, I thought you attended the Richmond Lodge?”  
“You don’t know everything Miss Fisher!” He grabbed her by the arm and spun her in front of him, her arm behind her back in a vice like grip. “Move!”  
She baulked. “Let me go Jack, I can walk without restraint!”  
He pulled her into his chest and hissed into her ear. “We can do this my way and I can escort you out the back door, or we can do this your way and let one of our more fierce members find you and treat you accordingly!”  
Phryne walked, but she still struggled in Jack’s grip. They managed to get away from the front rooms without being seen, but as Jack hesitated in a hallway, a figure loomed out of a doorway.  
“The kitchen is this way Brother” said a familiar voice in disappointed tones.  
Phryne stopped struggling and sagged in Jack’s grip. Of course Mr Butler went out every Tuesday night! She went meekly as Jack pushed her through the kitchen, passing kitchen staff who looked highly amused at the pair.  
“I presume the misguided duo are in the lane way?” said Jack as he pushed her down the back steps.  
“Yes” said Phryne dully, as Jack maintained his grip all the way to the car, where Bert and Cec were standing guard.  
“That took less than ten minutes” said Cec, looking at his watch as Bert opened the rear door of the cab.  
“You owe me ten bob” Bert said to him, as Jack held Phryne’s head down to push her into the car.  
“Give us five minutes.” Jack said to the pair, and he climbed into the car beside Phryne. Bert and Cec covered the car windows with their backs.  
Jack shoved Phryne up against the far window squashing her handbag behind her. He followed her across the seat and pinned her there with his body.  
“You really like playing with fire, don’t you Miss Fisher! What were you doing there?”  
“I was looking for a client’s husband. A Mrs Smith came to me wanting to know where her husband went every night.”  
“Mrs Smith” repeated Jack, “And then her husband would be.. Mr Smith?” He shook his head in disbelief.  
“Yes” said Phryne struggling against his weight, “Jack is this heavy handedness really necessary?”  
“Yes, this “heavy handedness” is necessary. Of all the things you’ve done, this was the most gullible and the most stupid. You could have been molested, or even arrested!”  
“On what charge!”  
“Tresspass! Carrying unregistered weapons! And I’m not giving your weapons back. You’ve lost you precious gun for good this time!”  
Phryne made a grab for his pocket, but he grabbed her wrist and pinned her arm against the window.  
“Don’t fight me Phryne, You won’t win, and I won’t hesitate to arrest you myself.”  
Phryne struggled with indignation as he held her. “However, there is one thing I am curious about” he said, “something I thought was odd when I was frisking you.”  
He released her and smiled at her, disarming her temper. He reached for her shirt front and brushed aside the tie. “Nice shirt” he murmured, before he took the shirt in both hands and ripped it open.  
“Jack!” gasped Phryne, aghast at his brashness. He gazed at her front, breasts bound and padding covering her torso.  
“Miss William’s handiwork?” he asked.  
Phryne pulled the remains of her shirt closed and refused to answer.  
“Then I’ll be giving young Collins extra shifts in retaliation” he said.  
”That’s not fair Jack” protested Phryne.  
He pressed into her again. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair, Miss Fisher. Your perfume infiltrates my office, your maid distracts my constable, and you interfere in all my cases, you even appear in my dreams and I can’t take an evening off without you tormenting me. I even lose my pay over you!”  
He looked at her, as her chest rose and fell in indignation, his demeanour relaxed a little. “I don’t know what to do with you Phryne, arrest you or spank you!”  
“Well, if you want to make it personal,” she murmured, and slid her arms to his shoulders, hoping that Jack would respond favourably. “If I could just move my handbag from digging into my back, I am sure we can get a little more comfortable.”  
Jack smiled, “Well, we can do something about that!” he said and he slid his arm around Phryne, pressing into her, his gaze on her mouth. He pulled the handbag out from under her and placed it in the seat near the door.  
“Jack” sighed Phryne, totally forgiving his rough treatment. Jack smiled at her again, then she realised that he was opening her hand bag with his free hand.  
“What are you doing?” Phryne gasped, struggling to escape his hold.  
Jack smirked at her and up ended the contents of the bag onto the car seat.  
“Jack!” she wailed. His hands swept through the detritus. Her keys, lipstick, compact, pens, pencils, notebook, hanky, and notes were swept across the seat and floor.  
“It will give you something to do on the way home” he smirked holding her gaze as his hand swept through the pile.  
He released her and knocked on the car window, a sign for Bert to open the door.  
“Go home, and stay there!” Jack ordered. “If you’re good I might come and visit you when I’ve cooled down.” He climbed out of the car.  
He addressed Bert and Cec. “Take Miss Fisher home and make sure she stays there. I forbid you to drive her anywhere until I’ve decided otherwise. In fact; if I find you have taken her anywhere at all, I’ll bust you next time you have a case of her favourite champagne in the car and charge you with receiving stolen goods!”  
He sighed, pulled out his wallet and pulled out a ten pound note.  
“I’ll take that!” said Bert, and snatched the note out of Jack’s hand. “Now I have to collect from Mr B!”  
Jack turned and walked away, but Phryne stuck her head out of the car and called out, “Bert and Cec don’t have to drive me anywhere Jack, I still have the Hispano!”  
Jack kept walking, but he pulled something out of his jacket pocket and waved it in the air.  
He had taken her car keys!  
(And Mrs Smith never called again!)


End file.
